Here's what I can't get out of my mind about Alisia Hendricks and what happened 18 years ago.

It was bad enough her soul mate and fiance, Damon Collier, died suddenly from a stray bullet, Feb. 16, 2001, not two days from their Valentine's date night. But, then she learned a few weeks later she was pregnant with his child. Part of her gentle giant was literally still with her, though she'd never get to tell him.

Twins run in her mother's side of the family and she eventually learned it was her turn. She carried their Valentine's Day babies - a boy and girl she named Damon and Damiere - for only about three and a half months before she miscarried them in the same place Damon died, UC Hospital, on May 31.

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Alisia Hendricks, center, sits with her daughters, Nadeige Collier, left, and Keziah Hendricks, on Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019, at their residence in Hamilton. Alisia Hendricks' fiance and father of her children, Damon Collier, died 18 years ago due to a gunshot wound.(Photo: Albert Cesare / The Enquirer)

I just cry thinking of her sitting in that hospital, without him, for the two weeks she needed to recover from complications. I picture her alone, still raw from his death, mind heavy from the weight of the world and hollow with grief over him and their babies. They were supposed to get married when he graduated from Miami University Hamilton in June 2002. They were supposed to have seven kids, if Damon had his way, and make their way through life together.

As it stood, that dream stopped abruptly. She first told me about this when I was putting together bios for all our classmates as part of the Mt. Healthy High School class of 1988 reunion last summer. Talk about a gut punch.

How does anyone get through that darkness?

Turns out, her beacons were the lights of her life, their beautiful girls, Keziah, then 6, and Nadeige, 4.

"They are the only reason I got through that time. If it weren't for me looking beyond what I already had, I don't know where I'd be to this day. I knew I had two other lives I had to take control of. I had to pull myself together," she said. "I think most of the time I cried, just asking 'why is all of this happening to me?' People say you're not supposed to question the work of God, but you have to question 'what is the reason?'"

Alisia Hendricks, center, sits with her daughters, Nadeige Collier, left, and Keziah Hendricks, on Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019, at their residence in Hamilton. Alisia Hendricks' fiance and father of her children, Damon Collier, died 18 years ago due to a gunshot wound. Albert Cesare / The Enquirer

Alisia Hendricks, center, sits with her daughters, Nadeige Collier, left, and Keziah Hendricks, on Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019, at their residence in Hamilton. Alisia Hendricks' fiance and father of her children, Damon Collier, died 18 years ago due to a gunshot wound. Albert Cesare / The Enquirer

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Damon graduated from Hamilton High School in 1994. Known for his humor, he went to a junior college in Kansas before transferring to Miami University Hamilton for sports medicine. His 6-foot-6-ish frame helped him excel at basketball and football for the Big Blue.

That height may have played a part in what happened Feb. 15, 2001, when he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

According to a 12th Court of Appeals judgment, Keyawn Jackson and Chico Morris were fighting on the floor at Mahogany's Bar. After a bouncer pulled Morris off of Jackson, Jackson shot Morris in the leg. Since he was on the floor, the bullet traveled through Morris' leg and upward into Damon's head as he stood nearby. Jackson's appeal was denied and he served out his sentence at Pickaway Correctional Institute, Orient. He was released late 2018.

Alisia hadn't intended to go to Jackson's trial. In a strange turn of events, she was called to jury duty on the day they picked jurors for Jackson's trial. After quick words with the bailiff, the court excused her for obvious reasons.

"I didn't want to live that all over again, but I had taken off work, so I think it was something - my higher power - helping me learn what all went on that day. Always two sides to the story. ... It was hard. It was long. I had questions and I got answers. I think that's what led me to forgive him in my heart."

To seek their own type of closure, daughters Nadeige wrote a poem and Keziah did her junior year English project on Keyawn. In fact, Keziah wrote him in prison and he responded with a very detailed letter describing how the events unfolded.

"I'm not angry with him," Keziah said. "I don't hold any anger toward him. It is kinda bittersweet that he's now free and my dad is still gone, but he served his time."

Before they could move on, they had to get through some mighty struggles.

After Damon's death, money was beyond tight. They were homeless for a year and a half stretch. Growing up in Mt. Healthy, Alisia didn't want for anything and was determined to make sure their girls felt that same security.

"You hear a lot of parents say, 'I want to give my kids what I didn't have.' But I wanted to give my kids what I did have and it was all just taken away," she said. "I would cry when they couldn't see. I would work double shifts, two and three jobs, if I could. ... It's not where you live; it's how you live. I didn't shelter them or keep them away from things."

Nadeige, now 22, an Ohio University student also in the U.S. Army National Guard, admires her mother's strength and her skill at shielding her and her sister from the reality of the time. Now that she's older, she said they realize their mom struggled to provide as a single parent and sacrificed a lot so they could play sports, take dance classes and be regular kids.

Nadeige always wanted to hang around with her dad, Damon Collier.(Photo: Thanks to Alisia Hendricks)

"I thank her for still allowing us to have a childhood and allowing us to be happy. We were happy kids. We didn't have anything to complain about as kids. She made sure we had everything we wanted," she said.

Keziah, now 24, said her mother could have given up and their family would have been in an entirely different situation.

"Not all the time we get along. I feel like sometimes I can be a little difficult for her, but I appreciate her ... Now, I work with people who are on drugs really bad and I listen to some of their stories and a lot of them aren't as bad as what she went through," she said.

"She's strong and she pushed through and she raised us. I feel like we're good people and I feel like she did a good job," she said, turning to her mom. "I appreciate you. I'm thankful I have you. I wouldn't trade you for anything."

Their closeness makes up for the fact they all miss Damon's presence. The house would be more joyous with him around to joke with and, well, just talk to.

Keziah has seen evidence that Damon still checks in on them, she said. When remembering a man her mom dated had fallen down the steps, she joked Damon might have had a hand in that.

Alisia wondered if Damon was the angel who helped them make it through those tough times.

"I think he protects me, in a way. Like I've told you before, we been through so many obstacles but we've always seemed to see our way through."

She's done such a good job with the girls, it won't be long before they're out on their own and managing their own households. Still, it's a time Alisia anticipates with joy and fear. Her girls have kept her grounded and her faith kept her strong. How will she manage without her girls?

What's more, the woman in her still feels Damon's loss keenly.

Though she's dated now and again, the pain of not having the love of her life with her anymore never goes away. "I know when they made him, the mold was broken. There's never going be another Damon. I think sometimes I stay to myself a lot because I'm picky."

Or, it could be the heart knows what home feels like and hers hasn't felt the same since February 2001.

"My faith was tested and I do believe I will have moments of 'where do I go from here?' but I'm quite sure I'll find my way through."

No doubt.

If the work of the home is love made visible, then Damon Collier's lady made sure his daughters saw his love for them each day - a couple's bond that transcends any anniversary, holiday or even death.

Melanie Laughman is the digital preps planning editor for high school sports. She periodically writes a column, Take 5, on family-related issues. You can reach her via Twitter at @mlaughman or by email at mlaughman@enquirer.com.